


This is Something.

by knitmeapony



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Multi, Other, marvel throwdown
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-06
Updated: 2013-05-06
Packaged: 2017-12-10 14:49:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/787262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knitmeapony/pseuds/knitmeapony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky has vodka, pickles, pizza, coffee, and all the something a guy could want.</p><p>Post Winter Soldier where everything works out okay because I said so.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This is Something.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Marvel Throwdown on Tumblr, because it is awesome.

They'd started with beer but somewhere along the line Bucky'd gotten Cap to switch to vodka.  "Not vodka," he'd said, "but _vodka_." The real stuff, bought in an unmarked, chipped glass bottle from a guy he'd met on the street in Gravesend.  He'd gotten the vodka, an ugly, squat can of coffee, and six pickles wrapped in wax paper after a fierce negotiation.  They'd made the exchange at one in the morning, food for a wad of dirty bills in small denominations.  Bucky hadn't felt so at home in months.

They'd started downstairs, too, in the Brooklyn apartment Steve'd found for Bucky, but it was so damn hot and Bucky wasn't really interested in blocking up a window with an air conditioner, so they'd moved up to the roof.  There was plenty of furniture up there, plastic chairs and wicker couches dragged up by various residents, but they'd ended up on the edge of the roof, feet dangling over the edge.

" _Citizen Kane_ ," Bucky said, using a tactical knife to cut one of the pickles into wedges.  Steve took a swig right from the bottle and put it down between them.

" _Bambi_ ," Steve returned with a grin, and Bucky snorted but dutifully took a drink, chasing it with a bite of the pickle.  "Oh, you really should.  It's a modern classic."

" _Bambi_."  He gave Steve a narrow-eyed look.  "The one about the baby deer and his forest friends."

Steve nodded.  "You'd be surprised what a heartwarming story can do for your state of mind."

"Get Stark to watch it with us, and I'm in."

"Done."

Bucky could almost feel him making a note of it. _Get Tony to watch Bambi._  Steve reached for a piece of the pickle Bucky moved like lightning, wrapping it back up in wax paper and hiding it in his pocket.  Steve's expression was wounded enough to make Bucky smirk.  "Get your own."

"Fine."  Steve produced an apple from god knows where -- hopefully a pocket in his cargo pants -- and polished it on his shirt.  "It's your turn."  

Bucky felt rather than heard someone coming up the fire escape, and he tensed the barest of inches.  Steve noticed and reached behind him, putting a hand on his shield.  They shared a glance and Bucky nodded as he wiped his knife clean and put it away.  He had much better weaponry than that, if their intruder was dangerous.  "Mr. Smith Goes to Washington."

"That one I've seen." Steve managed to one-handedly turn the shield around and catch the strap enough to twist his fingers through it.  He took a bit of apple and talked around it.  "We saw Captains Courageous together, didn't we?"

Bucky turned that over in his head as he silently got to his feet, sliding back behind the half-wall on the edge of the roof.  "Maybe.  I've seen it since. Probably why I wanted to see it... ah."  He rocked up to his toes, leaned out and got eyes on their visitor.  "Ah.  I assume you come in peace, Natalia."

At the name, Steve relaxed and let go of his shield.  "Evening," he said with a bright smile, rolling to his feet to offer her a hand up and over.  

She took it with a ghost of a smile, managing to hook the fingers of her free hand around the vodka bottle as she passed on by.  She sniffed at it and then lifted an eyebrow at Bucky, tasting a sip at first and then a mouthful, chasing it with a bite of pickle.  Wait.  Pickle?  Bucky patted his pocket and found himself a wedge light.  How in the hell had she even known?

She smirked and gave Bucky his bottle back with a quirk of her eyebrow that was almost a promise.  "Steven.  James.  What are you up to?"

"Never have I ever with classic movies."  Steve brought her a lawn chair gallantly, even as she settled on the ground with her back to the wall.  "The only rule is that they have to have been made before either of us enlisted."

"A drinking game?"  She was almost disappointed.  "What is the point of that when neither of you can get drunk?"

"Passes the time," Bucky said.

"Camaraderie and morale," Steve said at the same moment.

"Brother," Bucky said with a snort, "you can not make drinking vodka sound patriotic."

"Apparently he can." Natasha smirked and stretched out her legs.  "Let's play a game that makes you think, at least, hm?"

\-----

The sun had set two hours ago, and they were still talking.  Natasha'd kept up with both of them, drink for drink, and she didn't look any worse for the wear.  She had, however, managed to stretch out with her head in Bucky's lap and her leg's over Steve's thighs.

" _Out of the Silent Plane_ ," Steve said, propping his sketchbook up against Natasha's knee.

"Nerd," Bucky said with a smirk.  "And isn't it supposed to be books that're more interesting with the last letter gone?  I'd say a planet's more interesting than a plane."

"I still prefer egghead.  There are plenty of silent planets.  Not a lot of silent planes."

"That's true."  Bucky stretched and leaned back against the wall.  "Unless you count the _nachthexen_."

"A stalled plane is not a silent plane," Natasha tilted her head to peer up at him.  "Although a movie about them would be interesting.  Steve gets the point.   _Brighton Roc_."  She held up an imperious finger before Bucky could even open his mouth.  "Without the k, a roc is a bird of prey the size of a man."

"She's right."  Steve's pencil arced across the page with a quiet scratch.  "Much more interesting."

"Eggheads," Bucky said, resigned  "Both of you."

"You're surrounded, Bucky.  Better surrender."  Steve glanced up from his work and caught Natasha's eye with a little smile --  and she winked at him.  Bucky narrowed his eyes as Steve went on.  "Discretion's the better part of valor, after all."

"Now wait just a minute.  When did you two get chummy?"  Bucky gave them both a suspicious look.  "I've known both of you for years longer than you've known each other, and now you're ganging up on me."  

"New York," Natasha said, "but we didn't start actively plotting against you until last week.  It's your turn."

He examined the last bottle of vodka -- two swallows left is all -- and tilted it down his throat. Oof, that was the end of that.  "Hilarious."  He idly considered chucking the bottle over the edge of the building into the alley below, hefting the thick glass in his hand.  Steve glanced up as if he'd read Bucky's mind and gave him a frown.  Well, damn. Bucky put the bottle down with a sigh.  " _Mike Mulligan and the Steam Shove_."

"That sounds obscene."  Natasha smirked and reached up to pat Bucky's knee.  "Nicely done."

"Thank you."  Bucky leaned back and let his eyes closed as a comfortable silence fell.  It was a beautiful night, they had a reasonably well fortified position, and if he didn't know better he'd think the vodka had actually gotten to him.  Must be a contact buzz from Natasha - which meant that she was actually drunk.  He felt himself start to smile and Natasha patted his knee again.  He reached up and put his hand on hers, and she tangled their fingers together.

After a few long, lovely moments of just breathing, Bucky felt Steve shift in his seat.  He probably just noticed where their hands were, and was about to try to discreetly leave them alone.  "Well, I should probably get some sl—"

"Hah."  Bucky cut Steve off before he could even finish the thought.  "Nice try, brother.  Pizza?"

"Pizza."  Natasha squeezed his hand approvingly and sat up, using the motion to lean in and examine what Steve'd been drawing.  "Is that... me riding a roc?"

"Into battle," Steve confirmed, sheepishly.  

"Can I have it?"

Bucky pulled himself to his feet and eyed them both suspiciously.  He knew Steve, and when Steve started sketching a woman, well.  Steve only drew two kinds of people: women he was attracted to, and Bucky.  And Natasha never got sentimental, but if she really liked someone she collected trophies like a magpie.  Bucky'd made a mental note to tell Clint where half his arrows'd disappeared to, some day.

So that was... something.

"Wait, is that me hanging from the claws of the thing?"  Bucky gave Steve a look as he coughed and looked abashed all over again.  "Don't you think maybe it's too soon to have me hanging from anything in flight?"

"I don't."  Natasha claimed the drawing when Steve tore it out of his sketchbook, rolling it up and tucking it away safely.  "It suits you, James.  The Soldier in his natural habitat."

"Yes, you're very funny."  Bucky caught Steve's guilty look and rolled his eyes.  He clapped Steve on the shoulder with his metal hand -- one of the few men on the planet who didn't flinch when he did that -- and shook his head.  "And you think too much.  Wasn't that the point of the vodka?"

Natasha gave them both a speculative look and shook her head.  "I'll meet you downstairs," she said, spun on her heel and silently flipped herself up and over the wall and on down the outside of the fire escape.

"If you listen closely," Bucky said with a snort, "you can hear her cursing the entire race of men."

"... which makes her what?"  Steve quirked an eyebrow at Bucky curiously.  

"An elf, obviously.  Probably a Sindar."  

Steve pulled open the door to let Bucky through to the stairwell.  "Weren't you just calling me a nerd?"

"Egghead.  Hey, you understood the reference."

"You made it."

"And we never tell Natasha."

"Agreed."

\---

Steve steered them towards some little hole in the wall down the street, one where half the linoleum had come unstuck but the windows were sparkling.  If Bucky knew Steve half as well as he thought he did, this was probably the best pizza in Brooklyn, made all that much better by the affection the owner had for his favorite Avenger.

Sure enough, the cashier tried to give them the pizza for free, but Steve peeled a few crisp bills from a clip in his pocket and wouldn't leave until they were safely tucked away in the register.  There was a creaky old booth in the corner but apparently Steve didn't trust it any more than Bucky did; he pulled them back outside and they sat on a bench by the bus stop while they waited for their food.

"Is this still part of the 'old neighborhood'?"  Natasha perched upon the back of the bench, feet on the seat.  

"Close enough.  School is that way."  Steve pointed.  "The old apartment is past that.  Oh, hey, the USO was up this way, wasn't it?  The dance hall, I mean."

Bucky squinted up at the sky, vague memories scratching at the back of his mind.  "I... possibly.  Those kinds of memories haven't come back.  I do remember back that way," he gestured over his shoulder, "there's probably still a weapons cache and a sniper's nest I used to take out some mafia."

Steve winced.  "We should go take care of that."

"Later.  It's well-hidden -- I'm willing to bet even you two can't find it."

Natasha's eyes lit up in a gleam of challenge.  "Tomorrow," she promised.

"Tomorrow," Bucky agreed.  "Today, I'll go get the pizza."

It probably wasn't quite done, but he went inside anyway; he needed a minute away from Steve.  It made his teeth grit to admit it, but sometimes the memories Steve brought up made him dizzy.  When he was just on the edge of remembering, it was harder than when he had nothing at all.

He watched them through the window while he waited; Steve put an arm around Natasha in an easy, comfortable gesture that Bucky'd have never expected.  Something'd happened there, no doubt, and he had to wonder why.  Natalia did, after all, have a habit of gathering information by any means she felt like employing.

She was speaking low in Steve's ear, and after a minute he realized that Steve was actually starting to turn red, a slow creep of color climbing up the back of his neck.  Bucky found himself disturbingly comfortable with that.  It didn't matter what they were talking about -- probably whatever'd made them so easily intimate -- but that felt pretty damn right, in the end.

The guy behind the counter had to call him three times to get the pizza, he was so wrapped up in watching them, and as he collected it he gave Bucky a grin.  "Mr. Rogers and the ladies, huh?  Every girl in the world, and he chooses none of'em.  I'm kinda hoping that means he's into guys."

Bucky blinked three times and snorted. "You're hoping?"

"Yeah, my nephew's like that.  Wouldn't hurt the kid to have a decent role model, y'know?"

"I bet."

Bucky brought the pizza out to the bench and Natasha moved over so he could sit between them.  He glanced between them with a slightly lifted eyebrow.  "So when did this all happen?"

Natasha reached for the box in his hands but he kept a tight grip.  

"This is the only leverage I've got," he said.  "Talk or the pepperoni gets it."

"It was after the attack on New York,"  Steve said quietly, staring down at his hands.  Natasha looked pleased -- almost proud of him -- and let him talk.  "About a week later.  I started making an effort to get out.  I asked Natasha to show me around."

"Why?"

"She was the only other soldier."

Ah.   _Ah_.  That made perfect sense.  Bucky let Natasha take the box from him and dig in.  "So you two are...?"

"Something," Natasha said, mouth full of pizza.  "We try not to think about it too much."

"You mean Steve tries and you don't."  Natasha just smiled at Bucky,her usual enigmatic self, but she reached behind him to touch Steve on the shoulder at the same time.  Something was _something_.

"Well, good decision, brother."  Steve looked surprised at that.  "We're all soldiers here,"  Bucky got his own slice of pizza and folded it in half carefully, "though I'd keep an eye on your t-shirts."  Steve hesitated, but finally he took the box from Natasha and took a breath, letting the tension out of his shoulders.

"That's not what we were talking about, though."  Natasha's words brought the tension right back, and Bucky blinked twice and used a mouth full of food as an excuse to think for a second.

"We were talking abou..."

"... about something."  Steve cut her off as he took his own slice, somehow managing to look disapproving and majestic while balancing a pizza on his knees.

"Turn off the Captain," Natasha said with a sigh, "and tell him.  It'll come out eventually.  Now is better than when it's awkward."

 _It's not awkward now?_  Bucky just kept eating, hoping the conversation would go away if he ignored it long enough.

There was a long silence, while Steve and Bucky ate their pizza and looked in different directions.  Natasha stared up at the sky, silently asking for strength while she waited.  One minute, two, five minutes that felt like hours, and finally even she couldn't stand it any more.

"Steven enjoyed you in your uniform very much, James," she said.  "He said the sight of you was 'something'."  Steve choked on a bite of crust and she patted him on the back helpfully.  "And also we are all soldiers here.  You see?  I know your type, James, and it trends towards the blond."  She gave Steve a look.  "You understand?  I am not here to be your matchmaker, but neither of you are very attractive when moody."

 _Oh_.  

He met Steve's eye over Natasha's head.

"Well.  That is... _something_ ," he said, not quite sure where to even start.  "Are we supposed to talk about it now?"

"We should go somewhere private."

Bucky finished his pizza and glanced over his shoulder.

"The pizza guy would probably like it if we talked right here," he said, "loudly."

" _What_?"

"Finish your dinner, Steven," Natasha put her hand on his knee, fond and intimate.  "then we will go be soldiers."

\---

"Begging your pardon, Mr. Barnes."  Hearing that polite voice come out of just about any computer he came in contact with just wasn't a surprise anymore.  Stark was a nosy bastard, but his butler was even worse.  Bucky pried open his laptop and squinted at the screen.

"Yes JARVIS?"

"Mr. Stark is wondering what happened last night.  What should I tell him?"

Bucky leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing.  "How does he know?"

There was a pause while JARVIS consulted with his creator.  "He says that if you don't think he keeps tabs on all the Avengers, you are mistaken."

"He didn't say mistaken, did he?"

"I'm afraid not."

Thank goodness Steve was still in the shower.  He'd probably get stiff and start lecturing Tony through JARVIS.  Bucky rubbed one eye with his fingers and considered how to answer.

Natasha lifted her head from the pillow.  "Tell him I owe Pepper a pair of boots and let him bother her."

"Thank you, Natasha."  Huh.  He'd have to think about what JARVIS using her first name meant -- but later.  She'd made a bet with Pepper Potts?  About... this, whatever the hell it was?

He blinked at her and she just smiled.  "Women talk," she said in Russian, lazily dropping her head again.  "Men make coffee."

"That's not a Russian proverb."  

"It could be," she mumbled.  "You don't remember."

"Nng," he said, as amiable as he got in the mornings.  Still, by the time Steve came out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, there was coffee on the stove.

"She's still asleep?"

"Not really, no."  Bucky poured a cup and passed it over to Steve.  "Trust me, she's getting more done there than most people do all day."  Natasha lifted an arm and waved her phone at both of them as proof.

Steve just smiled and leaned back against the counter.

"So this is... _something_."

"Something and then some."  Steve hesitated this time, so Bucky was the one who leaned across the space to kiss him, reassuring more than anything.  It was okay.  They were feeling things.  It happened.  It wasn't wrong.

Natasha was mumbling to herself in Russian, something about men being babies, and Bucky could feel the low, silent chuckle shaking Steve's shoulders.  He shot Steve an amused half-smile as he pulled away and settled on a stool.  "Stark already wants to know what's going on."

"Tony can go suck an egg."

"That's a hell of a thing for Captain America to say."

Steve didn't look abashed in the slightest.  "You've heard worse."

"Mmm.  About three hours ago, even."  Bucky sipped his coffee and watched Steve over the rim.  "I have to say, I'm impressed you haven't gone incoherent on us."

"Once the sense gets knocked into me, it stays knocked into me."

"Natalia?"  Bucky lifted an eyebrow as Steve nodded to confirm.  "She did that for me, too.  And Barton, and Stark, and, if the rumor is to be believed, Fury, once."

Natasha made an amused sound and finally rolled out of bed.

"Is that a confirm or deny?"

"Neither."  She found her way into somebody's t-shirt that'd been tossed on a chair and padded over to get her own coffee.  "So you're right.  This is _something_.  You," she said, pointing to Steve, "don't overthink it.  You," she said, punching Bucky's good shoulder, "don't underthink it."

"And you?"

"Deserve breakfast.  With fish.  Putting up with one of you is exhausting enough, let alone both."  Her arm slid around Steve's waist and Bucky watched them there, comfortable in his kitchen.  

Right.  Don't overthink it either, Barnes.  Just take the something and run.

"First a shower," he said, raking his fingers through his hair.  "Then the fish."  He pointed at both of them in turn.  "No tossing the apartment while I'm in there."

"What could we possibly learn about you that we don't already know?"

"Nng.   _Something_ ," he said with a heavy sigh, and beat a strategic retreat.


End file.
